


the deal

by savingsiriusblack



Series: Black Boys [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Astronomy, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Secrets, Growing Up Together, James Potter Lives, Jealousy, Lily Evans Potter Lives, M/M, References to Muggle Pop Culture, Remus Lupin Lives, Sirius Black Lives, light wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 10:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21297911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savingsiriusblack/pseuds/savingsiriusblack
Summary: Alphard convinces Harry to snoop on The Marauders' night out, and learns a thing, or two, about friendship.Part of an AU, in which Sirius raises Regulus' son, Alphard.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Original Male Character(s), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: Black Boys [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1528019
Comments: 6
Kudos: 82





	the deal

“Is it meant to be leaking?” Alphard scrunches his nose as he looks through the glass oven door at their impromptu pork pie. 

“What!” Sirius yelps. “No, no, no!” The pan he’d been scrubbing clatters into the sink. He rifles through the chopped food and dirty utensils that litter their kitchen counter, until he pulls a bit of parchment from the wreck. “Euphemia _warned_ me about leaking,” – his eyes sweep across the recipe – “now the bottom crust will be soggy!” he whines.

“Can’t you cast a _Locomotor_ on the filling and put it back inside the crust?” Al would love to see that cool bit of magic. Still, a larger part of him hopes his dad will ignore the suggestion and give up on the pie entirely.

Sirius Black is not a good cook. Unfortunately for Al’s taste buds, he’s not a quitter either.

“It’s not a set of keys, love. Food needs a gentler kind of magic and that’s never been my strong suit,” he pouts. “We can’t even pull it out yet. It’s been, what, ten minutes? It’ll be underdone.”

Al holds back a sigh. _Undercooked?_ The crust was already twice as dark as the ones Gran would bring round for Easter. There was no possible scenario in which that pork pie came out edible. He almost feels guilty for being pleased when his dad is so obviously distressed. Almost.

After a moment, he chances, “_So_, should we order pizza or fish and chips?”

“Oy! Wait a second. We’ll only know when we cut into the pie. And, anyway, it’s the taste that counts, right?”

They would never know if the taste counts, because their knife breaks through the stone-like crust to reveal a too pink center. Al pokes at a piece of soggy egg. He _hated_ when his dad tried to cook.

“Why couldn’t you just make beans? You’re good at that.”

Sirius sniffs, feigning offense, “This is the last time I try to make something special for dinner.”

“Do you promise?” That earns him a pinch on the arm. Al doesn’t mind though. He zooms out of kitchen and into their living room, searching excitedly for the telephone. He loved an excuse to order muggle food. “I’ll call Maritza’s!”

“Hold on there, puppy,” his dad calls, while casting a silent cleaning charm over the kitchen. “If it’s pizza for dinner, then we’ll wait until you get by the Potters' to order in. I’m sure Haz would appreciate a slice, or five.”

Al groans, dropping face down into the couch. He had forgotten that their fathers would be meeting up tonight. They did this at least once a month. He would normally look forward it, but the last thing he wanted to do today was visit Harry.

The boy feels a weight settle over his lower body. He cranes his neck to find his father perched on top of his legs as if they were a cushion. He glares at the man but only gets a smirk in return for his trouble.

“This is not the reaction of someone who gets to sleepover at their best mate’s house.”

Al pulls his legs free and huffs, “Harry’s not my best mate anymore. He’s a git.”

“Why can’t he be both?” Sirius has to grip Al’s arms to stop him from storming out of the room. “Okay, okay, no teasing.” He signs a cross over his heart. “Tell me, what did you guys fight about this time?”

“I don’t remember,” Al mumbles. He does remember. Their fight began the moment Harry called his telescope ‘lame’. It was not lame! It had an automatic, adjustable lens _and it was blue_! Even cooler was that his dad had charmed it to see straight through the walls of their flat. The man had done so after the two boys sneaked onto the roof of their apartment building to sketch _Andromeda_. Harry hadn’t thought it was lame then, _the liar!_ It wasn’t until Harry came back from his weekend at Ron Weasley’s house, caring only about Quidditch and Exploding Snap, that he found fault with the object. _He is such a git!_ “But I was right.”

“Hmm, compelling argument, but I’ll have to remain neutral on this one,” – Al tries and fails to dodge the hand ruffling his hair – “now, go pack a bag. Maybe you boys can work things out while James and I visit Remus, yeah?”

His father rises from the couch and makes his way towards the hall bathroom. Alphard is right on his heels. He could not to go to The Potters. Harry would think he _wanted _to be there. _What if Harry wasn’t even there? He could be at Ron’s, again!_

“Why can’t Uncle Remus come to us?” Al whines. He hops onto the bathroom counter and watches as his dad undoes the braid falling over his shoulder. “I think it should be his turn. He hasn’t been by for a visit in _weeks_! He used to spend the night _all the time_!”

“Oh, er, you know…his new job just keeps him busy. Can you pass me the comb?”

Al does has requested. He wonders why his dad looks so pink.

“_Or Or Or!_ I can come with you? He won’t mind _me_,” Al insists. It was an unspoken truth in their family that Al was Uncle Remus’ favorite…and that he was Alphard’s. 

“I don’t doubt it,” Sirius agrees with a small eye roll. “Still, you have to be at least ten to come tonight.” He puts down the comb and faces Al fully. “You really miss Moony, huh?”

Al thinks, _Of course I do_. Only a few months ago, Remus had all but lived with them. The two would make breakfast together and the man would walk Al to his muggle primary school. Al says, “He promised to help me chart the hydra constellation.”

“Okay, here is the deal,” his dad announces, and the boy perks up immediately. “If Lily tells me you were good, _I mean very good_, and didn’t fight with Harry, then I’ll ask Moony to come visit this weekend.”

“Deal,” Al nods enthusiastically, already thinking about what he should pack for tonight.

Sirius ruffles his hair. “I can’t promise he’ll say yes, though. Moony hasn’t been feeling well lately.”

“Did you cook for him, too?” Al narrowly avoids being swot with a hairbrush.

A few hours later finds him sprawled across Harry’s bedroom floor, tracing out _Lupus_ in his copy of _Corinna Curry’s Culminating Constellations for Young Witches and Wizards_. He’s debating whether he should eat the last slice of pizza or save it for Harry in an attempt to be _very good_.

It’s no easy task for a nine year old, especially tonight. Harry has been positioning Quidditch figurines around his windowsill for the last _two hours!_ It annoys Al to no end. They haven’t spoken much at all, actually. Both boys are waiting for the other to show an interest in his game.

Al gives in first. “What do you think happens on their nights out?”

Harry startles a bit at the question. He glances briefly at Al before turning back to his figurines. He shrugs and says, “I don’t know. Maybe they drink Ogden’s and talk about birds. That’s what Ron says his older brothers do when he’s not around.”

Al’s face screws up without his permission. _I’m definitely having the last slice of pizza_. He huffs at the boy’s back, “I can talk about birds.”

“You don’t know any,” Harry snorts.

“I do too!” Al shouts, face heating.

“Oh, really?” Harry taunts. He’s facing him fully now. “Like who?”

“A girl named Joanne moved into the flat across from us last month. _She’s ten_!” Al declares, triumphantly. “I spent the whole afternoon at her house once, _and_ we watched The Twilight Zone.”

Harry’s face crumples at hearing his best mate had watched their favorite muggle show without him.

“Why didn’t you invite me?”

“You were at _Ron’s_” Al shrugs. He turns back to his book with a satisfied smirk.

“It doesn’t matter." Al hears the boy's action figures scrape against the window once again. “She’s just your friend, if even that. At a blokes only night, they talk about girls they _like_.”

Alphard’s eyebrows shoot up. He knew his dad went on dates, but the man never mentioned _liking_ anyone.

For some reason, an image of his father kissing Uncle Remus in their doorway comes to the forefront of his mind. He tries to shake it off. Their parents would kiss each other all time, but this one had looked so … messy.

“They wouldn’t go all the way to Moony’s _just_ to talk. They talk around us all the time, and when I asked my dad if I could go with him instead, he said no.”

“You asked not to come here?” Harry frowns.

“No!” Al assures, too quickly. “Er, I just wanted to see Uncle Remus. Anyway, don’t you want to know what they’re really up to?”

Harry worries his bottom lip, but nods. He looks thoughtfully at his bedroom door and says, “Mum’s brewing medicine for Remus in the kitchen.”

Al's excitement deflates. “We’ll never make it past and through the floo.”

“No,” Harry agrees, but he’s got a small smile on his face and a mischievous glint in his eye. “But we have another one. Upstairs.”

Later that night, Al steps out of the floo to find Harry peering at the pictures and nick-nacks lining the walls of Uncle Remus’ cottage. _He’s never been here_, Al realizes. Moony normally came to them. Alphard was just grateful he remembered the address from his last visit.

The house is completely dark and suspiciously lacking their dads. He’s about to voice his concerns when he catches sight of the new edition of _Culminating Constellations_ on Remus’ coffee table. He flips through it curiously and finds that its been marked up already.

_Why would he start without me?_

“I think they went out,” Harry sighs.

He can tell the boy is about to suggest they return home, when a faint bark breaks through the window. He rushes to peer out of it and into the wooded area behind Moony’s cottage.

“I think that was Padfoot,” Al whispers, then smiles when he hears another howl.

“Are you sure?” Harry presses into the space next to him. His glasses knock against the windowpane. “Do you think they always run around as animagi for a bloke night?” he giggles.

“I told you they weren’t _talking_,” Al smiles, excited about their discovery. “I’ve never actually seen Remus’ animagus.” He squints through the dark, hoping to catch a glimpse.

“Me neither, but maybe it’s just really big. Mum only lets dad turn into Prongs outside.”

“Maybe he’s a bear!”

“Or a giraffe!”

The two boys burst into giggles.

“Moony _is not_ a giraffe!”

“He could be. He’s _so_ tall.”

Al gets an idea. “We should find out for ourselves.”

“When they get back? But we’ll be in trouble for sneaking out,” Harry frowns.

“No, silly, _right now_.” Al feels the small ache in his tummy that usually appears when he’s about to do something naughty. He ignores it. They were having so much fun. He doesn’t want to go back to the Potter’s house just for Harry to ignore him again. “The moon is full, so I bet it won’t be too hard to find them.”

Harry grins at him like he always does before they go on a new adventure. Al bounces on his toes at the sight. This, at least, Ron Weasley could never take from him.

The trek to the woods is exhilarating. Harry and Alphard pretend to be detectives along the way, searching for paw prints to guide them to their fathers and uncle. They don’t find any trails, but it’s fun all the same.

After a while, they break through a clearing of trees. Al nearly tumbles down the small hill on the other side, but Harry steadies his fall. At the bottom of the hill, Prongs and Padfoot are rolling around with another large, furry creature.

“A wolf?” Al breathes in amazement. “Cool!”

“I’ve never seen a wolf like _that_ before,” Harry whispers. His grip on Al’s hand tightens.

“Relax. Of course Moony would be a special wolf.”

“I think we should go back. Something isn’t right.”

Al wants to roll his eyes, and convince the boy to stay, but Harry looks so scared.

“If you’re sure,” he sighs, pushing himself up from the ground. “I thought we were having fun out -” Al slips on the undergrowth. He can feel rocks digging into shins.

“Does it hurt?” Harry is already kneeling in front of him. He pokes at the injury. “_Ick_, it’s bleeding. I’ll have to nick some of mum’s bandages. Can you stand?”

Al doesn’t need to answer because a piercing howl shoots straight up the hill and sends him flying to his feet. The boys look down in horror. The once playful wolf has transformed into a feral nightmare. It thrashes against the dog and stag trying to fight it back. Al understands now what Harry had meant. That was not a normal wolf in the way Padfoot was just a dog. Its limbs were too long and bulging. Its teeth shined like razors in the moonlight. 

_That could not be Uncle Remus. Could it? _Alphard was paralyzed by his fear. He thinks he would still be on top of that hill if Harry hadn’t dragged him back to Remus’ cottage and through the floo.

Upon arriving home, they were too shaken to do anything but curl up in Harry’s bed. Harry clung to Al until his exhaustion won out. Al pretended to be asleep when Lily checked on them later. She left the door ajar as always. When Uncle James came back, Al heard bits of their hushed conversation – something about ‘stray hikers’ and a ‘rough night’.

He screwed his eyes up tight and tried not to think about the wolf.

A few days later, Alphard wakes up to something ploughing at his bedroom window. He cranes his neck to find _Caesar_ attempting to poke a hole through the glass. The boy is groggy and restless from another nightmare, but rushes to let the Potters' owl inside before any of their muggle neighbors catch on.

Al recognizes Harry’s handwriting on the envelope. Oddly, when he opens it, there’s no letter. Enclosed is a page torn from what was probably a musty old book, if the smell is anything to go by. Harry has underlined the word ‘werewolf’ with a deep red marker. 

Al’s eyes barely focus on the words. The illustrations on the page are too like the beast from the woods. He still refused to think of that _thing_ as his sweet, Uncle Remus. He crumples the page, shoves it under his pillow and tries to bury all thoughts of that night. He almost wishes they had been caught, if only to relieve the sickness he’s felt ever since.

Alphard feels even worse when he steps into the kitchen and realizes his dad has held up his end of the deal. Remus is standing over their stove, cracking eggs into a pan. Normally, Al would run over and help, but today he shuffles his feet.

Remus must feel him staring, because he looks over his shoulder with a small frown that turns into a beaming smile when he spots the young boy in the entryway. Al wants to return it, but his stomach curdles, remembering the wolf’s sharp teeth.

“Morning, love! I thought I heard you moving around earlier. Your dad is still asleep, of course,” he winks at the boy, and turns down the fire under the pan. “Will you watch the eggs for a mo? _No touching_. I left something for you in the living room.” Remus kisses his head as he passes by, unaware of Al’s distress.

Alphard pulls a small stool from the lower cabinet and climbs up onto it to get a better view of the stove. He tries to calm himself while Remus is out of the room but jumps a bit when he feels a hand rest on his back. 

Remus is holding a book out to him. It’s the one from his coffee table, the second edition of _Culminating Constellations_.

“I hope you haven’t picked this one up yet.” Remus smiles sheepishly. “I would’ve gotten it to you sooner, but I wanted to add some interesting facts they missed to the margins.”

Al takes the book, almost reverently. He thinks he's about to cry and not in the good way. Remus must sense it too, because he’s staring down at him with a small concerned smile. He knows the man is about to question him. Al is not ready for that.

“Did you spend the night?” he blurts out and waves a hand at the man’s rumpled pyjamas.

“Oh, er, yes,” Remus blushes, scratching the back of his head. “Your dad mentioned, uh, I mean, does that bother you?”

Alphard shakes his head, confused. He had been the one to ask for Remus to visit. _And now you’re ruining it by acting like a complete prat, _he hisses at himself, _Remus is not going to hurt you!_

“Then what’s wrong, puppy?”

Al ducks his head and racks his brain for a believable excuse. “Harry sent me an annoying letter this morning,” he mutters. “He didn’t even answer my question and half of it was about _Ron_!” That was not technically a lie. Most of Harry’s letters mentioned Weasley these days, if not his most recent one.

Remus hums, “You two have been fighting a lot lately, haven’t you?” He runs a hand through Al’s curls. “That’s alright sometimes. I fought with your dad recently too.”

Al snaps his head up. “Really? What for?”

“It’s hard to explain. I think, in a way-” He takes a deep breath. “I was waiting for him, and he never showed.”

Al frowns, “He _is_ forgetful.”

“Yes, he is,” Remus chuckles and pulls the boy close. “But I realized that even if he isn’t always where I want him to be, or doing what I want him to do, he’s always there for me when it matters. Do you understand?”

Al thinks of Harry, who had barely spoken to him on the night of the full moon but refused to let go of his arm as they ran through the woods. He nods, “I think so.”

“Good. There will always be things about Harry that annoy or upset you … maybe even scare you.” Remus kneels and takes both of Al’s hands into his own. Alphard tries very hard not to imagine fur splitting through the man’s fingers. “That’s the deal you make when you choose to love someone. It won’t always pay off. In fact, most of the time, it doesn’t. _But_, if you’re patient, and _good_,” – he flicks the boy’s ear and smiles – “you’ll find that people change for the better. They apologize for hurting you. They show up.”

Remus’ warm brown eyes are piercing. Al wants to confess everything mistake he made on the night of the full moon and how horrid he’s felt ever since, but the words are too big and his emotions are too complicated. He throws his arm around the man’s neck and hopes it will be enough for now. Remus pulls out of the hug with a small smile on his face.

“Now, I was going to bake hash browns as well, but it seems something terrible has happened to your oven.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! This fic is much longer and cheesier than I intended loll. I'll try to update this series weekly.


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